Ever After
by 8asdffdsa8
Summary: *AU!!* Based on the movie 'Ever After'. Hermione is a servant to her stepmother and dresses as a noblewoman to help save a house-elf from being sent away. She captures the heart of Harry son of Minister of Magic, and all becomes complicated...
1. Chapter One

A/N: This is an AU fic which is based on Ever After.  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
A wizened old lady sat in a velvet covered chair, alluring green eyes and a grey hair which didn't betray any secrets of being a rich chocolate colour in her youth. She delicately sipped tea from china of the finest quality and remarkable thinness, and looked up when two gentlemen walked into the room. A glass slipper was placed beside her.  
  
'I suppose you are wondering why you are here, listening to an adult retell a children's fairy tale?' she asked quietly.  
  
'The letter you owled was most intriguing.' Conceded one of them.  
  
'I find your collection of children's fairy tales wonderful,' she began, crossing her arms in front of her. 'But I found your adaptation of Cinderella most disturbing.'  
  
'There are many, many versions of this family tale.' Admitted the taller one, nervously fingering the clasp of his dress robe.  
  
'Yes, indeed.' Said the other quickly, darting a look at his partner, William. 'Some say the shoe was of fur, others find it hard to believe that it really was a pumpkin, and whether or not the fairy-godmother existed at all.'  
  
'Fairy-tales.' Shrugged William dismissively.  
  
The woman raised her eyebrow skeptically. 'You do write them, don't you?'  
  
'Would you excuse me for asking this, madam, but that painting is most exquisite.' Said the other.  
  
'It is of Hermione Granger, and this is her glass slipper.'  
  
The two men exchanged quick looks. 'Then it is -'  
  
'Would you like to here the true story of Cinderella?' interrupted the lady quickly. 'How do you say it? Once upon a time . . .'  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Seven-year-old Hermione tossed her chocolate hair and spoke to her nanny, Molly, who was braiding her hair. 'Oh, Molly, I am so excited! It is like Christmas, isn't it? A mother and two sisters, all in one day!'  
  
Molly smiled, 'It is, such an honour and of High Order, oh hold still!'  
  
Hermione turned impatiently, and her friend snickered.  
  
'I know she's dying to read her stupid book.' He said.  
  
'Shut up Ron!' said Hermione haughtily, poking her tongue out at him. 'It is not a stupid book!'  
  
'Oh, hush!' chided Molly.  
  
Hermione suddenly sat very still, clasping her hands together in front of her. 'I hope she likes me.' She paused briefly. 'After all, I don't have any practice in having a mother.' She hugged her knees to her chest. 'She's my very first.'  
  
'I'm sure she'll love the beautiful girl you are.' Said Molly, smiling as she tied a ribbon deftly into her hair.  
  
'You look like such a girl.' Said Ron, not in the most admiring way.  
  
'That's what I am, you half-wit.'  
  
Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
'Men!' sniffed Hermione.  
  
'Girls!' shot back Ron.  
  
'Girl or not, you know I can tickle . . .'  
  
A tall man entered the threshold of the castle and greeted the butler. 'Good day, Maurice.'  
  
'Fine day, Mr. Granger, sir.' He said. 'You'll find the house in top order, sir.'  
  
'Very well.' Mr. Granger said. 'But I seem to be missing a daughter.'  
  
Shrieks of laughter were heard, and then the pattering of feet, followed by a happy voice. 'Daddy! Daddy, hi!'  
  
Hermione ran into the room, her hair decidedly unruly and stockings wrinkled. Her father chuckled and bent before her.  
  
'I'd hope to present a young lady to the baroness, but you'll do.' He joked, touching her face.  
  
'She doesn't - she doesn't mind that I'm not - well,' Hermione lowered a voice and her father knelt towards her ear. 'A muggle.'  
  
'Darling, she doesn't mind in the least.' Her father laughed. He paused a moment, noticing her discomfort. 'Sweetheart, being a muggle is nothing to be ashamed of. You take after your mother, a fine woman.'  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow. 'I want to be like you.' She said, her lower lip trembling. 'I've read spells, I'm sure I know how!'  
  
Her father smiled. 'We'll see, eh?' he said, giving her a hug. 'You never can tell until your eleven, can you?'  
  
Hermione smiled.  
  
Maurice cleared his throat and both Hermione and Mr. Granger looked up. 'May I present,' he said. 'Baroness Elizabeth and daughters Marguerite and Jacqueline.'  
  
Her father stood up quickly and gave Elizabeth a quick peck on the cheek and Hermione stood slowly looking at the two immaculate girls, suddenly conscience of the state of her hair after a tickling fight with Ron.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Before bedtime, her father asked her how she liked her new stepsisters. Hermione shrugged. 'Did you see how they ate their dinner? They were so perfect. It's not natural. They need breaking into.' Concluded Hermione.  
  
Her father laughed gently. 'Well, I look forward to seeing it after I get back from France.'  
  
'You're leaving again?' asked Hermione quietly, her chocolate eyes wounded, looking so very much like her mother that he was startled. 'But you only just got here.'  
  
He gave her a kiss on her forehead. 'I'll be gone two weeks, all right?'  
  
Hermione nodded, biting her lip.  
  
'Oh cheer up. You'll be able to break them in while I'm gone.' He smiled at her. 'Now here's a little surprise.' He pulled out a book and handed it to her.  
  
'Utopia?' read Hermione carefully. 'What does it mean?'  
  
'It means paradise.' Said her father. 'Now, off to bed.' He tucked her in and smoothed the covers, taking a long look at her before kissing her goodnight.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Safe journey, sir.' Said Maurice, the butler, helping him into his robe.  
  
He kissed all three girls and gave Hermione a long hug before mounting his broom. 'I love you,' he whispered in her ear.  
  
'All right, ladies.' Said Elizabeth crisply. 'Back to your studies.'  
  
'Wait for him to wave at the gate,' insisted Hermione. 'It's tradition.'  
  
Marguerite rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. That's strange, thought Hermione before turning her gaze to her father just in time to see him fall from his broom.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
It was to be eleven years before another man entered her life, a man who was still like a boy in many, many ways.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
MANY YEARS LATER . . .  
  
'I told you, Lily.' Said James Potter, the Minister of Magic, throwing the curtains open. 'That boy needs to learn responsibility. He needs to make choices . . . and, Good Lord, he'd better make the right one.'  
  
'Darling,' said Lily placing a hand on his shoulder. 'He doesn't love her.'  
  
'He doesn't believe in love! It drives me mad, all these princesses and courtiers throwing themselves at his feet, that boy . . .'  
  
'Perhaps he should. Like father, like son.' She said with a teasing smile.  
  
James softened, and then looked out of the window.  
  
'Someone stop that boy!' he shouted, watching as his son sped away on his broom.  
  
Harry sped through the trees and landed by a stable where he saw a horse. A though stirred in his mind and his green eyes gleamed as he mounted it. 'Yah!' he shouted, galloping away. 'Freedom!' he called.  
  
'Oh no you don't!' called a voice, angrily.  
  
An apple was hurled across, and hit him promptly on the forehead. 'Ow!' said Harry, kneading his forehead, still atop the horse.  
  
'Thief! That will teach you not to steal my father's horse!' shouted Hermione racing towards him.  
  
'I was just borrowing it.' Protested Harry, his back to her.  
  
'Get out or I'll wake the house, you - you -' finding no words, but a convenient apple, she threw it at his head.  
  
'Ow!' He cried again, and turned around, and Hermione gasped in shock.  
  
It was Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. The little brat from the richest wizarding family in England who had saved them from the Dark Lord so long ago. She had seen his picture before, but whenever did he become so handsome? His jet-black hair was a tangled mess, and his green eyes as alluring as ever - right, that train of though wasn't helpful.  
  
'I am so very sorry,' said Hermione, shaking as she curtsied, clutching after her wits. 'I didn't see you.'  
  
'Your fantastic apple throwing skills would suggest otherwise.' Said Harry, running a hand rakishly through his hair.  
  
'And for that, I will be punished?' said Hermione hopefully, an air of confidence about her.  
  
Harry chuckled shortly. 'Just don't tell anyone.' He hopped off the horse and handed the reins to her, walking away.  
  
Hermione called after him. 'We have more horses, if you wish!'  
  
He turned around and gave her one last look, before walking away.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Unlike the fairy-tale says, the two step-sisters were not in the least ugly. Not the immaculate seven-year-olds any longer - Marguerite, the older one was a beauty, with golden hair and bright blue eyes who could well look like an angel, if not for the discontented look and nose which was continually turned up at others. Jacqueline was a little plumper with pale skin and soft dark hair with gentle eyes.  
  
Elizabeth, their mother, had her hair pulled back into a severe bun and thin eyebrows and thin lips which would purse themselves up if anything displeased her. She was tall and had a long thin nose which she used to her advantage in looking down at all others.  
  
'This egg is cold.' Said Marguerite, pouting. 'And where on earth is my bread?'  
  
'It's just coming,' called Molly from the kitchen.  
  
'Marguerite, darling. What do I say about manners?' Elizabeth said, smiling.  
  
'A lady of breeding ought never to raise her voice any louder than the gentle hum of a whispering wind.' Said Jacqueline gently.  
  
'Jacqueline, please. Do not speak unless you can improve the silence.' Said Elizabeth, her eyes glinting. 'Why is there no salt on the table? Hermione, come here immediately!'  
  
'One of those moods.' Muttered Hermione, brushing her hands on her dirty dress and picking up the salt.  
  
'Tinkle is going to the Americas?' asked Danielle, the cook, urgently as she took the bread out of the oven.  
  
Molly dabbed her eyes, and sniffed over the peas.  
  
Hermione gave them a worried look and walked to the dining room. 'Morning all.' She said, smiling.  
  
Only Jacqueline deigned to answer. 'Morning, Hermione.'  
  
'I hope you all slept well?'  
  
'Look who's been reading in the fireplace again.' Sneered Marguerite. 'The soot and ash just doesn't become you, Cinder-soot.'  
  
'Some people read because they can't think for themselves,' added Elizabeth haughtily. Hermione narrowed her eyes.  
  
'Why don't you sleep with the pigs, if you insist on smelling like one.' Said Marguerite snottily, her ethereal beauty and turned-up nose starting to annoy Hermione.  
  
'Marguerite, please. Child, what can I do to make you try?' asked Elizabeth condescendingly turning her attention back to Hermione.  
  
'Oh I spend every minute trying to please you, ma'am.' Said Hermione, bitingly. 'Perhaps if we got Tinkle back, you'd -'  
  
Elizabeth missed the sarcasm. 'I feed you, I clothe you. It isn't your looks that offends you. It is your manner. All I want is a little obedience for living on my charity. Now, no more talk of house elves returning.'  
  
Hermione made an impatient noise, sick and tired of the pity act that Elizabeth pulled on her. She almost preferred Marguerite's cattiness to Elizabeth's manipulating schemes.  
  
'Is that to much to ask?' finished Elizabeth, in a world-weary tone.  
  
Hermione turned around and walked out of the room.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Harry sat in the royal horseless carriage, bored stiff. He turned to look out the window and saw several gypsies surrounded an tall thin, old man.  
  
'No, please!' the old man pleaded. 'Please, they are simply calculations! They are my life!'  
  
One of the gypsies sneered, 'Oh are they? Old man!' and he spat on the ground.  
  
The old man straightened up. 'Enough!' he shouted. Drawing out his wand, he banished them to a farm in Scotland.  
  
Harry was most impressed and quickly jumped out of the carriage.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Too small.' Sniffed Elizabeth at the gold brooch presented to her.  
  
'Anything larger would topple her over.' Grunted the storekeeper.  
  
'I shall simply keep looking.' She said. 'It must draw attention.'  
  
Hermione was behind a screen while Ron stood outside, waiting.  
  
'Are you crazy? Dressing up like upper class to save a house elf? You're half-blood! Well, they thought you were a muggle until you got your letter to go to Hogwarts, and then Eliza-cow wouldn't let you go. So you had to teach yourself, and you're practically a Squib!' He spluttered, desperately. 'That makes it even worse!'  
  
'I am not practically a Squib.' Said Hermione. 'I am a skilled witch. I have gotten one hundred percent on all of the tests in my father's library.' Sneaking a glance at Elizabeth, she neatly levitated a candlestick. She fingered her wand lovingly, it had been a gift from Molly, something they could barely afford. 'And you'd do the same for me, you know you would!'  
  
'Me? Pretend to be in the Ministry? I hardly know any magic at all. I've never been to a Gala, and neither have you!'  
  
'I won't be recognized, so stop worrying!' said Hermione. 'Hand me the dress.'  
  
'They will never believe it, you are far too nice.'  
  
'I refuse to believe that all upper class ministers are cruel and mean like my stepmother.' Insisted Hermione. 'It just can't be true.'  
  
'But - but . . .' faltered Ron. 'What'll you tell Miss. High Order Elizabeth, then, huh? What?'  
  
'I'm berry-picking! What are they doing?'  
  
'Buy a brooch.'  
  
'Still? Unbelievable. She blames us for her debts and then pretends she has money to burn. Oh no, I think the shoes are too big.'  
  
'No one will be looking at your feet.' Dismissed Ron. 'Aren't you ready yet?'  
  
Hermione appeared uncertainly from behind the screen. She wore a beautiful gown of rich velvet and anxiously awaited Ron's comment. 'Ron?'  
  
For Ron was silent, for once.  
  
'You look beautiful.' He said sincerely. 'You are very beautiful, you know?'  
  
Hermione looked dubious. 'I'm only a servant in a beautiful dress.'  
  
'You're a upper class. You look down to no one.' Said Ron, simply.  
  
Hermione smiled and played with a lock of her hair. 'Thank you.'  
  
'Come here, let's get mother to prepare you.'  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
A/N: How you like? Review pretty please! 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: OK, next chapter! Onward we go - and by the way, I disclaim this totally. It is JKR's and based on 'Ever After'. I own nothing! Don't sue!  
  
By the way, in this fic, Minister of Magic is like a King, something that is of royal blood. Since James Potter is Minister of Magic, Harry is next in line for the position. It is AU, see? Courtiers are members of the Ministry.  
  
Dumbledore is a Professor who is a genius that no one takes seriously, he also paints. Storyline subject to change slightly.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Why is it so hard for you to take responsibility, Harry?' asked Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore and himself had become friends since the incident with the gypsies and were having lunch together. Harry groaned. He was right again. Dumbledore was always right.  
  
'It is not just a matter of taking the position of Minister of Magic, Professor. They want me to get married.' He spat out the words in disgust. 'To some Spanish girl I know nothing of.'  
  
Dumbledore looked at him in sympathy. 'Well, Harry -'  
  
The clock chimed and Harry started. 'Sorry, Professor. I must thank a servant.'  
  
Dumbledore watched him in amazement as he grabbed his cloak and ran off. 'That boy . . .' he murmured. 'Call me Albus!' he shouted through the open window.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Well, well.' Said Elizabeth coming to the door. 'What a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe the honour?'  
  
'I just wanted to thank a servant girl for borrowing a horse.' He said simply, smoothing down his messy hair.  
  
'Oh.' Said Elizabeth sharply. 'Was it borrowed?'  
  
'Yes. Well - I took it this morning and was punished,' he said ruefully. 'I think I scared her into throwing apples at me. Great aim though, would make for a fantastic Chaser perhaps, er . . .' he trailed off, looking at Elizabeth's less-than-happy face.  
  
'She's mute.' Was all she could say.  
  
'Mute?' said Harry, giving a short laugh. 'Well, she certainly told me off all right.'  
  
'It comes and goes. She's not in anyway.'  
  
'I should be going then, thank -'  
  
'Have you met my daughters?' said Elizabeth quickly, spotting them and presenting them foreword. 'Marguerite Francis De Ghent. And Jacqueline.'  
  
Marguerite curtsied flirtatiously, her eyes placed on Harry. She wore a low-cut gown with a large brooch they bought that morning was placed directly center at the low neckline of the dress, giving him a full opportunity to look at her. Jacqueline shot her a look of disgust.  
  
'I can't believe you are the same girls I went to Hogwarts with.' Said Harry, charmingly. 'You seemed to have - grown . . . overnight.' This he said to Marguerite, much to her satisfaction.  
  
'We look forward to celebrating your engagement, sire.' Said Elizabeth.  
  
Harry suddenly looked flustered. 'Nothing is finalized.' He said shortly. 'That brooch is stunning.'  
  
'That old thing? You are such a flatterer.' Said Marguerite demurely. 'You are welcome to look.' She added.  
  
'Good day, ladies.' He said before leaving.  
  
The three curtsied again, and as he left, Marguerite gave a shriek of delight and hugged her mother. Jacqueline rolled her eyes and went inside.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Come along, move it!' said the gruff voice of a wizard, slapping the reins against a horse which was carting a load of house-elves and servant men.  
  
'Here we go.' Said Hermione taking a deep breath. 'Excuse me, sir.' She said, stepping directly in front of the cart.  
  
'Whoa!' called the man, stopping the horse. 'What do you want, miss?'  
  
'I wish to pay the debt against this house-elf. I wish to take back the clothes and take him home this afternoon.' She said boldly.  
  
'No such luck.' He said shortly. 'Bought and paid for and will be shipped to America.'  
  
'I'll pay ten galleons for him!' she shouted.  
  
'Lady, you can have ten galleons for me. Now, move it.'  
  
'Release him at once or I will take the matter to the Minister of Magic!' demanded Hermione.  
  
'He's the one that paid for him. He is property of a man in America who needs twenty house-elves.'  
  
'He isn't property of anyone, you filthy idiot!' cried Hermione passionately. 'How dare you think it is right to chain men and house- elves and ship them across the Channel! You make me sick!'  
  
Harry was watching this scene and stepped closer.  
  
'Get out of my way!' the cart-driver barked at Hermione.  
  
'How dare you speak to a young lady like that.' Interrupted Harry.  
  
'Sire, I am simply doing my job. These thieves and criminals are sent away for a reason.'  
  
'That rubbish! These servants and house-elves aren't thieves and those who are can't help themselves!' shouted Hermione, tossing her hair indignantly.  
  
'They aren't?' said Harry in surprise.  
  
Hermione scowled at him. 'You send these ill-educated creatures away for crimes which they have been accustomed to since infancy. You make thieves and then punish them. As for house-elves, they are shockingly unrepresented in the Ministry, I'll have you know!'  
  
Harry smiled at the young lady who was speaking so passionately, with fire in her eyes and looking more beautiful than anyone he has ever met - but she looked so very familiar. 'Well you heard her. Release him.'  
  
'But -'  
  
'I said, release him.'  
  
Tinkle was unchained and ran towards Hermione clutching her dress in his dirty hands he hugged her and smudged her dress. She didn't seem to mind and hugged him back.  
  
'I'll get your transport ready, miss. I'll meet you at the bridge.' And with that, he ran off, ripping his sock off triumphantly as he went.  
  
'Have we met?' asked Harry turning to her.  
  
Hermione shook her head at once. 'I don't think so.' She said quickly.  
  
'I could have sworn I had seen you before. I thought I knew all the courtiers of the Ministry.' He said, furrowing his brow.  
  
'I'm visiting a cousin.' Said Hermione, crossing her fingers behind her back.  
  
'Who?'  
  
'A cousin.'  
  
'Which one?'  
  
'The only one I have.' She said simply, dodging his questions.  
  
'Are you trying to seduce me with your mystery or don't you want to tell me your name?' asked Harry finally.  
  
'Yes - and no.'  
  
'Well then tell me your cousin's name. I think you're worth the effort. I think I heard some utopian lines that you said.'  
  
'You've read Utopia?' said Hermione, smiling brightly.  
  
'Yes.' Said Harry. 'But it was so boring.' He continued candidly, 'I'm not interested about poor people's lives. Commoners, some even muggleborn or half-blood!'  
  
'You don't talk to many commoners.' Said Hermione, narrowing her eyes at the conceited man before her. She was disappointed at his attitude, and was disappointed at her disappointment. Who was she to think he was any different?  
  
'You think I'm arrogant?' he said with a teasing smile.  
  
'You gave one house-elf back his life, but did you think of the others at all?' said Hermione shortly.  
  
'Please, can you tell me your name?'  
  
'I can only give you one: Daniella.' Said Hermione, using the name of her late mother. That would have to do, and she wouldn't be seeing him again anytime soon.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Hermione and Tinkle ran towards the kitchens and opened the door of the laundry where they found Molly washing clothes. She leapt up when she saw them.  
  
'Tinkle! Tinkle, you're back!' said Molly happily.  
  
'He looks wonderful, doesn't he?' agreed Hermione.  
  
MEANWHILE:  
  
'Your father wants to speak to you face to face.' Said Lily, as soon as she found Harry, who surprisingly, was in the library with the book Utopia clutched in his hand.  
  
'That's usually how he speaks to me.' Said Harry, energetically catching his mother's arm and waltzing her down the corridor into their bedroom where his father stood by the window.  
  
'We have come to a decision.' He said quietly.  
  
All energy left Harry and he slumped into a chair. The fated news. Would he or would he not be asked to date and probably marry a total stranger from Spain?  
  
'We are throwing a ball in honour of Professor Dumbledore's new discovery. We don't wish you to get married, but we want you final decision -'  
  
'On whether you accept the position, five days day after midnight that night.' Finished Lily sympathetically. She glanced at her husband. 'It worked for us. It will work for you.'  
  
Harry stood up abruptly and the chair toppled heedlessly to the floor. 'I hate this.'  
  
'You are crowned Minister of Magic -'  
  
'And it is my life, not yours!'  
  
'- and you have obligations. You will make the right decision or so help me God, I'll live forever.'  
  
Great. Gives him many options, doesn't it? Harry thought, retreating back to the library.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Somebody's in trouble,' mocked Marguerite in a sing-song way as soon as she saw Hermione. 'Mother, she's here!'  
  
'What on earth do you mean?' asked Hermione airily.  
  
Elizabeth swooped upon her and grabbed both her shoulders, shaking her violently while shouting a torrent of angry words. 'You stupid, idiotic girl! How dare you go behind our backs and do this to me and Marguerite? It's deceitful and disgusting considering what I have done for you! I will not accept these underhand ways of yours and not in my house!' she shouted, so angry that she sprayed Hermione with her spittle.  
  
'What did I do?' cried Hermione, shrugging herself away from her clutch.  
  
'Think about what you did this morning.' Said Marguerite smoothly. 'Think very hard.'  
  
'I was in the woods and Harry stole a horse.' Said Hermione, furrowing her brow.  
  
'Yes and wouldn't that explain when he came here this afternoon looking for you!' said Elizabeth angrily.  
  
'I'm sorry.' Was all Hermione could think to say.  
  
'Luckily for you, Marguerite was absolutely stunning. She has Harry wrapped around her little finger.' Elizabeth sneered.  
  
'I wouldn't be surprised if he came to see me tomorrow!' declared Marguerite, tossing her hair.  
  
Elizabeth clapped her hands briskly. 'I want to know exactly what you said to him. He hinted in no uncertain terms that you scolded him!'  
  
'I called him a thief.' Said Hermione. 'I didn't see him!' she added defensively.  
  
'You stupid, pitiful girl. Now we must work extra hard to keep this Manor spotless. It wouldn't do to have his noble bottom sitting on a dirty chair, now would it? And I thought I gave you clothes, Tinkle.'  
  
'They let Tinkle go - they had many house-elves, they did not want Tinkle, miss.' Said Tinkle, cowering behind Hermione.  
  
'Fine. Go - go clean something!'  
  
Elizabeth watched as Hermione and Tinkle scurried away into the servants quarters. Hearing a knock on the door, she found Earnest, the castle guard. He was a chubby, short man who always came around with the tit- bits of the Ministry's doings.  
  
'What news of the Spanish girl?'  
  
'Cancelled. Not happening, apparently. Rumour has it, they're forgetting the marriage concept entirely.' He whispered, as he always did for fear of being overhead, which was, of course, absolutely ridiculous. 'He must make his decision about accepting the position the night of the ball in honour of that loony, Albus Dumbledore.'  
  
'I shall need to know everything, his agenda, what he is doing - but what is this?'  
  
'And invitation for the ball.' He said, presenting an envelope. 'For the ladies of the house. Lily Potter has made the option of meeting a possible bride very clear indeed.'  
  
'Thank you Earnest, thank you.' Said Elizabeth, running her cupped fingers down his cheek. 'Once my daughter is the wife of the Minister of Magic, we shall make a new arrangement.'  
  
'Yes, ma'am.' He apparated with a pop.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'I would have given anything to see you dressed all posh like a courtier,' said Molly, and she sat on a barrel in awe. 'And to think you spoke to the Harry Potter.'  
  
'Telling him off is more like it and I can't believe I gave him my mother's name.' said Hermione, charming the potatoes to peel themselves. 'He is absolutely insufferable. I hate him.'  
  
'Yes, and you've been saying that all day.' Said Molly, giving her a sideways look.  
  
'Well I hate him as much now as I did in the morning.' Said Hermione, watching the potatoes zoom into a pot.  
  
'He's royalty, love.' Said Molly, as if that explained everything. 'They're born that way.'  
  
'I just can't believe that people are born arrogant.' Said Hermione. She paused, contemplating this. 'When your rich, you live with rich people, that's why.'  
  
'Maybe he's charming when you get to know him.' Suggested Molly.  
  
'Honestly, I think he and Marguerite deserve each.'  
  
'Don't tempt fate, dear. The other throne I want that brat sitting on is the one I clean everyday.' Said Molly, patting Hermione affectionately on the shoulder.  
  
Hermione smiled at Molly and cast a spell on the window to create a beautiful picture of beaches, which they watched quietly as the potatoes boiled.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: And so it goes!  
Marguerite, Jacqueline and Elizabeth were in Hogsmeade on a shopping trip to buy an outfit for Professor Dumbledore's costume ball. The whole female population of England were buzzing with excitement, all desperate to steal Harry's heart.  
  
Marguerite tossed back a royal blue dress robe.  
  
'What was wrong with that one?' asked Elizabeth.  
  
'It's blue.' Said Marguerite, rifling through other racks.  
  
'Harry's favourite colour is blue.' Said Elizabeth, picking it up and looking at it.  
  
'And at least fifty other girls would be wearing the exact same colour.' Said Marguerite witheringly, snatching the dress from her mother's arms and throwing it back on the counter.  
  
'It's too tight!' called Jacqueline plaintively from the dressing-room.  
  
'Tighten your corset, then!' snapped Elizabeth.  
  
'I can't breathe as it is!' she replied.  
  
'When you can't breathe, you can't eat.' Said Elizabeth, folding her arms.  
  
Marguerite stamped her foot impatiently. 'Mother, focus please!'  
  
'Well darling, I could help if I knew what you were looking for.' Said Elizabeth.  
  
'Something fit for a queen,' said Marguerite, pouting.  
  
Elizabeth's eyes gleamed. 'I know just what you're looking for.' She said mysteriously. 'But speak of this to no one.'  
  
Later, when they were at the manor, they went to the attic and Elizabeth pulled out a dress from a dusty chest. It was a magnificent gown, white and embroidered with dozens of pearls and beads, Marguerite gasped when she saw it.  
  
'Oh, it's perfect!' she said, examining it.  
  
Jacqueline pulled out a pair of dainty shoes, which looked as if they were made of glass. 'Look at these shoes! But mother,' she said hesitantly, 'Where did you get these from?'  
  
'They're Hermione's mother's, which she left for her wedding.'  
  
'Daniella's?' spat Marguerite. 'Well, well, I have the perfect name for Cinder-soot then, don't I? Cinderella, inheriting this beautiful dress for her wedding - marrying who? The chimney sweep!' she said sarcastically, stamping her foot.  
  
'Mother, if the dress is belongs to her, perhaps she'll want to wear it to the ball?' asked Jacqueline timidly.  
  
Two pairs of eyes stared at her incredulously. 'Since when does a Ministry Ball involve commoners and half-bloods?' said Elizabeth.  
  
'Well - never.' Jacqueline admitted. 'But she is out step-sister, and the invitation was addressed to all the ladies of the house.'  
  
'Honestly, who's side are you on?' demanded Marguerite.  
  
Just then the door swung open and Hermione entered, carrying an decrepit footstool. She stopped short when she saw them. 'What are you doing?' she asked suspiciously.  
  
'Airing out your dress for the ball, dear.' Said Elizabeth smoothly.  
  
'Her dress?' said Jacqueline in confusion. 'But I thought you said -'  
  
'I suppose for a half-blood it will have to do. I mean, look at it! It's practically an antique.' Added Marguerite, catching on.  
  
'You're allowing me to got to the ball?' asked Hermione, furrowing her brow.  
  
'Of course.'  
  
'Why, I don't know what to say.'  
  
'Say? It hurts me, Hermione, to think that you don't feel like a part of this family.' Said Elizabeth, placing her hand on her chest dramatically. 'I thought we could all go as one happy family, provided you do your chores and mind your manners until then.'  
  
Jacqueline looked at her mother and sister in disgust at all the schemes and lies they were telling. Shaking her head in disbelief, she left abruptly, slamming the door behind her.  
  
'What's the matter with her?' asked Hermione, bewildered.  
  
'She didn't want you to come.' Lied Marguerite quickly.  
  
Elizabeth and Marguerite left the room too, leaving Hermione by herself in the attic, wondering whether or not she had been finally accepted.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Harry and Dumbledore were sitting side by side near a lake by Hermione's manor. Harry was talking animatedly, while Dumbledore strapped several funny wooden things onto his own feet.  
  
'Do you think that everyone has a perfect match or soul mate?' asked Harry.  
  
'As a matter of fact, yes I do.' Said Dumbledore, looking up from his calculations.  
  
'Well, then how can you be sure you'll find them? And if you do find them, are they really the one for you or do you only think they are and what happens id the person you're supposed to be with never appears - or she does, but you never notice?'  
  
'You must learn to pay attention.' Said Dumbledore simply.  
  
Harry brushed his hair back and looked thoughtful. 'Yes, but what if God puts two people on earth and they are lucky enough to find each other, but one gets hit by lightening, then what? It that it, or if you meet someone new and marry all over again, is that the lady your supposed to be with or was it the first? And if that's so, were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first - or was it the second one that was meant to be first? And is everything just chance or were some things meant to be?' he rambled on, lost in his own confusion. He put his head in his heads, and groaned.  
  
'You can't leave everything to fate, my boy. Just remember that. She has a lot to do too, and sometimes you must help her.' said Dumbledore, as he fastened the last strap.  
  
'What's this experiment?' asked Harry with interest.  
  
'Would you like to see if they work?' he asked, grinning.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
It was a beautiful day. Hermione had finished her chores, and was by the lake. It was calm and peaceful, and she was in a secluded area away from the main part of it. The sun was hot against her skin and the light bounced upon the water's lazy ripples. She took off her shoes and placed her feet in the cool, clear water. Hermione smiled slightly, and looked around to see if anyone was there. Knowing she wasn't needed until lunch she carefully lay back on the lake, her chestnut curls fanning out around her head as she floating with the current down the lake. Dreamily, she sighed. Enjoying the rays of the sun on her face and the cool water against her body, she closed her eyes. After some time, she heard some splashing, and an anxious voice, she opened her eyes to see twinkling blue eyes looking straight back at her. She gasped, a man walking on water? She thought, until she saw him wobbling precariously on queer wooden contraptions attached to his feet. Toppling, he fell in the water, with a loud splash.  
  
'Professor Dumbledore! Professor, are you all right?' she heard a male voice call. It was Harry Potter.  
  
Dumbledore surfaced, expelling a fine stream of water from his mouth as he did so. Helping himself and Hermione to the bank, he laughed merrily at his failed experiment. 'I should have left walking on water to the Son of God, but fortunately I tripped over an angel.' He said warmly, smiling at her.  
  
Harry recognized her instantly, as she was afraid. 'Daniella!' he said. Hermione groaned slightly. Ever since rescuing Tinkle, she had a fascination with him. He also thought she was a courtier named Danielle, her mother's name!  
  
'Your highness!' she said (A/N: the Minister of Magic's family are addressed as royalty) 'Er, careful. It is - slippery there.'  
  
'Here.' He said, draping his fine cloak around her shoulders. They both froze when his hands came into contact with her, and separated quickly, both a little nervous.  
  
'Thank you,' said Hermione, glad of the warmth of the garment.  
  
'Where are all your servants?' he asked.  
  
'I - I - well, I - I decided to give them a day off,' said Hermione awkwardly. Please God, forgive me for all these lies, she prayed silently.  
  
'A day off? From what, life?' asked Harry.  
  
'Don't you ever get sick of people waiting on you all the time?' asked Hermione.  
  
'Yes, but they're servants. It's their job.' Said Harry.  
  
Hermione eye's flashed. 'Well I wish I could dismiss mine as easily as you do yours.' She retorted, as she turned away.  
  
'You're angry with me.' Said Harry, sounding highly amused.  
  
'No.'  
  
'Admit it!'  
  
'Well, yes, I am.' Said Hermione with her back to him, raising her eyebrows awaiting his reaction.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Well you seem not to care about your inferiors at all.'  
  
'I can't believe you. You quite fascinating, you know that, don't you?' Said Harry walking around to face her again.  
  
'Me?'  
  
Harry nodded, smiling, his lopsided grin giving Hermione fluttery feelings in the pit of her stomach that she had never felt before. 'You believe in a utopian society, but you live the life of a courtier. Isn't that a contradiction?'  
  
'And you own all the land there is, but don't take any pride in it. Isn't that a contradiction?' shot back Hermione quickly.  
  
Harry grinned again, shaking his head. 'Before I was arrogant and now I have no pride, however do I manage that?'  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, and smiled. 'But,' she added, enjoying the conversation, 'You have everything you want but the world still holds no joy and you still make fun of those you can see it for all it's possibilities.' She said, with a flash of insight.  
  
Harry went quiet. 'How do you do it?' he asked finally.  
  
'Do what?'  
  
'Nobody has ever made me feel -' he stopped abruptly, he looked into her golden eyes for a moment. Hermione was mesmerized by his startling green eyes, and he leant in slightly, she held her breath, closing her eyes -  
  
'Hermione!' called a voice, breaking the spell.  
  
Hermione started. 'Oh! I'm so sorry, I've lost track of time. I must go.'  
  
'But it's such a beautiful day!' protesting Dumbledore, who had been tinkering with his inventions. He held up a kite. 'The wind is perfect!'  
  
'I'm sorry.' Said Hermione. 'But I must go.'  
  
'I'm playing Quidditch tomorrow at the castle. Will you come?' called Harry after her.  
  
'I must go.' Said Hermione, hitching her skirt and running away swiftly.  
  
'Why does she keep doing that?' asked Harry to Dumbledore.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Where are the candlesticks? We can barely see what we're eating!' Demanded Elizabeth.  
  
'They're missing, my lady.' Said Molly hesitantly.  
  
'So is the painting upstairs.' Said Marguerite. 'Well, it seems that we have a thief in our midst.'  
  
'So this is how I am treated after all my kindness? My late husbands possessions stolen? I shall simply have to take the cost of each missing item out of all of the servants' pay.' Said Elizabeth.  
  
Both Molly and the scullery maid both bowed their heads. 'Yes, ma'am.' They said, before exiting.  
  
Hermione shook her head in dismay, as she brought in the main dishes.  
  
'Perhaps I should send you to America.' Said Elizabeth cruelly.  
  
'Didn't you hear? Harry went to the Minister and asked him to release all those men.' Spoke up Jacqueline.  
  
'He did?' asked Hermione, impressed. He really had listened to her.  
  
'Uh-huh. Now by Ministry decree, anyone who sails must be compensated.' She continued.  
  
'Compensated? What is the world coming to, I wonder.' Said Elizabeth haughtily.  
  
'Well I want to know who this courtier everyone keeps talking about. Their must have been ten Ministry people talking about how pretty she is and how Harry has fallen for her!' said Marguerite in disgust.  
  
'Well, we shall have to find her and bury her.' said Elizabeth morosely, starting to eat.  
  
Hermione left the dining room quickly, amazed that perhaps the famous Harry could actually like her! But a guilty feeling overtook her. He didn't know her as Hermione the servant. He knew her as Daniella, the courtier with Hermione's personality and ideals. Now, groaning softly, she wondered what on earth she was doing. She had only pretended to be a courtier to save Tinkle, not deceive the prince. Now things were certainly getting complicated . . .  
  
She had fallen in love with Harry Potter.  
A/N: How do you like? Review, please! 


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Grateful for all the fantastic reviews! Stoneheart, in regard to the un-updated story that you so kindly put on you favourite's page is at a dead end. Very sorry, but may revive it one day!  
  
Malfoy does want Hermione in the this fic, remember it is AU  
  
I don't think that this fic will be finished before the release of the next HP book, but I will continue writing it, regardless of whether or not JKR puts Ron and Hermione together. I mean, it is AU! Please keep reading if you are enjoying it and do assure me in your review that you will!  
  
Thanks!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Hermione Granger, you get prettier every week.' Hissed Draco Malfoy as he passed their vegetable stall in the market place.  
  
'And you, Malfoy are wasting your flattery.' Said Hermione, busying herself with arranging the vegetables. Every week, Molly, Paulette and herself would come to sell the vegetables they grew to make money for Elizabeth.  
  
'It's a pity your soil is the best in the province yet so poorly tended.' Continued Malfoy smoothly.  
  
'We have limited resources, sir. We do the best we can.' Shot back Molly curtly, with deep dislike of the man.  
  
'Perhaps you should discuss it with Elizabeth and stick to shopping instead.' Said Paulette, the scullery maid.  
  
'Excuse me, but I was talking to Hermione. I've always had a soft spot for the unfortunate. You need a wealthy benefactor and I need a pretty woman with spirit to entertain me. . .' he paused, arching an eyebrow.  
  
'Prunes?' asked Hermione shortly, holding them out towards him.  
  
'No.' he said, his eyes flashing. 'I'll buy nothing this week, and take care to remember that if it weren't for my generosity, this pitiful farm would cease to exist!' and with that, and the sweep of his long black cloak, he stalked away.  
  
'The cruel man. If he didn't buy a bushel of vegetables every week, I'd wipe that smile off his face.' Muttered Molly.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was walking along with Marguerite and Jacqueline, much to Elizabeth's satisfaction. Marguerite was talking animatedly, while Harry listened, though rather absent-mindedly.  
  
Marguerite caught sight of the stall. 'Oh, here are our servants.' She said carelessly.  
  
'Oh really?' said Harry, breaking out of his reverie. 'I'd love to meet them.'  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Molly, Paulette and Hermione were working methodically, heads bents when Hermione heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Harry's say cheerfully, 'Good morning, ladies!'  
  
Hermione started, thinking quickly, she kicked a cart making a chicken fly into Harry's face, taking the opportunity to ran away.  
  
'What on earth were you trying to do!' screamed Elizabeth, brushing the feathers off Harry's cloak. 'Scare him to death?'  
  
Harry was apparently unconcerned, but focused on the two servants, narrowing his eyes. 'Were there just the two of you?' he asked, confused.  
  
'And the chicken, sir.' Added Molly, helpfully, in the corner of her eye seeing Hermione crouched behind the large horseless carriage.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Hermione was sweeping Elizabeth's room, hearing an endless monologue of Marguerite's eventual marriage to Harry which she had apparently taken completely for granted would actually happen.  
  
'We must press for a quick engagement.' She was saying idly, lolling on the couch as she watched Hermione sweep. She had pleasure not letting Hermione do magic in the house, and merely watched as she strained to reach behind the large closet. 'Honeymoon in Paris, you think? Oh,' she started as Hermione emerged from underneath the bed, covered in dust, with a scowl on her face. 'My mother was hard on me too.' She said, sharply.  
  
'She was convinced that cleanliness was next to Godliness.' Elizabeth continued, oblivious to Hermione mimicking her behind her back. 'She forced me to wash my face twenty times a day and was still convinced that it wasn't clean enough. And see where I am, a courtier. And Marguerite shall be married to the next Minister of Magic. Pity you never knew your mother. There must be something of her in you.' She added, carelessly.  
  
'I wish I knew what she looked like. The photos of her are all missing.' Said Hermione thoughtfully, perching on a chair.  
  
'Well we mustn't feel sorry for ourselves.' Said Elizabeth, crisply. 'Sometimes I can almost see your father in you. . . well, after all you're so masculine.' She added spitefully.  
  
'Did you love my father?' asked Hermione, tilting her head and looking carefully at her stepmother.  
  
'Well, I barely knew him. Now go away, I'm tired.' Said Elizabeth airily.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Hey look, Ron!' said Hermione twirling around, having charmed a kite to fly from her wand. 'It's floating.'  
  
Ron looked over his canvas to survey her. 'I don't know what your happy about. You'll be swimming in manure if they get married.' he wiped some red paint off his face.  
  
'I don't know why you care so much. I don't.' said Hermione, continuing to fly her kite.  
  
'You're lying.' Said Ron loudly. 'The Minister for Magic will be your brother-in-law and you, Daniella,' he emphasized 'would be bringing them breakfast in bed.'  
  
'Yes, but they'll move into the palace and leave me in the manor. I'll turn things around and make life so much better for your mother, Molly and the rest of the servants. That's all that matters.'  
  
'You like him. Admit it!' teased Ron.  
  
'Nope!'  
  
Ron, catching sight of Harry approaching on a horse said quickly, 'And if you saw him again, you'd say. . .'  
  
'I'd say, my family is your family, please take them away.' Said Hermione happily, not noticing him coming.  
  
'Good, 'cause here's your chance, their heading this way!' shouted Ron.  
  
'Ron!' squealed Hermione, immediately running behind a haystack.  
  
'I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore, have you seen him?' asked Harry, stopping by Ron.  
  
'Dumbledore? Er - no, no I haven't.'  
  
'Who is flying that kite? It is magnificent, rather like the professors.' Added Harry. Hearing this, Hermione quickly threw the wand out of her hands.  
  
'It belongs to Her - Daniella.' Said Ron slyly.  
  
'Daniella?' Harry's voice tone immediately changed. 'Please, you know her? I must find her, where is she staying?' Hearing this, Hermione placed her head in her hands. Please don't Ron, she pleaded silently.  
  
'I do know, sir, that she is staying with - er - a - cousin. Yes, a cousin. Courtier Elizabeth De Ghent, to be exact.'  
  
'Hmm.' Harry looked a little frustrated. 'That is a problem.'  
  
'But,' said Ron quickly. 'I do know that she is there, alone, at this very moment.'  
  
Harry smiled. 'Excellent.' He said. 'Nice painting.' He said to Ron, before mounting his horse.  
  
After making sure he was gone, Hermione picked up her wand and ran out for behind the haystack. 'Ron! You horrible thing!' she shouted.  
  
Ron, meanwhile was staring at his painting as though it had a new meaning to him. 'Did you hear? He likes my painting!'  
  
'And he's heading towards my house!' said Hermione, shaking her head.  
  
Ron leant forward, and whispered in her ear, 'Then I'd suggest you run.'  
  
Half gratified, half exasperated, Hermione quickly mounted Ron's horse and rode off, going through the quicker shortcut, well away from the main road Harry was traveling, she tore of her apron as she ran into the manor. 'Molly! Paulette! Quickly!' she said.  
  
A few minutes later Hermione was dressed in another beautiful gown which was in a chest that belonged to her mother. Hair slightly askew, she was a little out of breath when she answered Harry's knock on the door.  
  
'Your highness, what an unexpected surprise!' she said, stepping out.  
  
'You didn't attend the Quidditch game?' asked Harry, after greeting her.  
  
'I'm very afraid of heights.' Conceded Hermione, smiling slightly.  
  
'I know of a fantastic library. Since you love books, I thought of taking you there.' Said Harry.  
  
'Well, you know my weakness, but I don't know yours.' Said Hermione.  
  
'I thought it would be obvious.' Said Harry quietly, his green eyes boring into hers.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'I've never seen anything like this!' said Hermione spinning around as she looked at the floors and floor of shelves filled with books. 'It's incredible!'  
  
'Pick one.' Said Harry simply. 'Or many.'  
  
'I couldn't, I wouldn't know where to start.'  
  
'What makes you love them so much?' asked Harry, as they walked down the circular staircase.  
  
'I think it was my father. He loved reading, and he often bring back books to read to me at bedtime. I used to fall asleep listening to his voice.' Hermione paused, tears starting to form in her eyes. 'I'd rather hear his voice again than any sound in the world.' She stopped abruptly, turning away from him, composing herself. 'He died when I was seven,' she continued. 'Utopia was the last book he brought home.'  
  
She turned around again, to see his face. 'That would explain why you quote it.' He said soberly.  
  
Hermione saw a little uncertainty in his eyes. 'Is there something wrong? If I said, or did anything . . .'  
  
'No,' said Harry quietly, bringing his finger to her lips to silence her. 'Please don't, it isn't you.'  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'This was the best idea, mother.' Said Marguerite. 'Getting Lily Potter's favourite brooch, pretend I saw her drop it and return it. Oh, she will love me!'  
  
'Isn't that what mothers are for?' asked Elizabeth. 'It's now or never.'  
  
'Forgive me, Madame,' said Marguerite approaching the horseless carriage they were about to go off in. 'But you dropped this earlier.' She smiled sweetly, her playing her part well as she held out the brooch.  
  
'My dear, it is a rare person who would return such a valuable keepsake. Why, I can't even remember putting it on!' said Lily, kindly.  
  
Marguerite smiled, lifting her long lashes. Feigning shyness, she curtsied prettily. 'You are too magnanimous.' She said, her blue eyes, blonde hair and angelic demeanor really softening Lily's heart.  
  
'How very kind. You are Marguerite De Ghent?' queried Lily. Marguerite nodded. 'We shall have a chat tomorrow, and do bring your mother.' She said.  
  
'As you wish.' Said Marguerite, serenely watching the carriage move away.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
THAT AFTERNOON:  
  
'Well, this is embarrassing.' Said Harry, looking over their carriage which had broken down. Hermione anxiously looked at her watch for the time.  
  
'Well, we'll have to walk.' Said Hermione hastily.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Now we can't be too confident, ladies.' Said Elizabeth. 'Harry wasn't in at lunch and was apparently out all morning. We must figure out why this is.'  
  
'Marguerite gets to do everything.' Complained Jacqueline.  
  
'Don't be silly, Jacqueline. Lily Potter doesn't even know you exist.' Sniffed Marguerite.  
  
'After all, once Marguerite is Harry's wife it will benefit us all.' Said Elizabeth briskly.  
  
'Lovely, next I'll be a servant like Hermione.' Said Jacqueline, annoyed.  
  
'Where is that girl?' asked Elizabeth suspiciously.  
  
'Probably off catching rabbits with her teeth.' Said Marguerite airily.  
  
Paulette entered the room nervously, with Molly in tow. 'Please Miss, did you move the gilded mirror in your bed chamber?'  
  
'Of course not.' Snapped Elizabeth. 'Why?'  
  
'Well, it's also missing.'  
  
'Then it too shall come out of your pay.' Said Elizabeth contemptuously.  
  
Both servants bowed their heads and exited the room. 'Either you stop telling her when things are missing or we won't be paid at all!' muttered Molly.  
  
'Good thing I didn't mention the tapestries,' said Paulette fervently.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'Why is it that men can never ask for directions?' asked Hermione, she shielded her eyes. 'Please come down, Harry!'  
  
'What? Am I scaring you?' asked Harry, who was on the topmost branch of a large tree, trying to spot where they were in the immense forest.  
  
'Come down now!' said Hermione.  
  
'Or what?' teased Harry. He took both his hands off the branch he was holding onto. 'Look, no hands!' Hearing Hermione scream, he smiled to himself and thought that he'd come down and scare her no more. He climbed down swiftly and jumped to the ground, turning to face her.  
  
But she was screaming for another reason.  
  
A band of gypsies, people who were shunned from the wizarding world and banished, were surrounding Hermione, one holding a knife threateningly as they had no wands.  
  
A tall one picked Harry's fine cloak off the ground. 'My son'll love this!' he shouted dangling it in the air.  
  
'Hey!' shouted Harry. As soon as he opened his mouth, three men leapt at him, holding him captive.  
  
'Release him at once!' demanded Hermione, drawing her wand out. 'Return our things and since you have stolen our transport,' - they had hacked off the silk curtains and gold finishings of their broken horseless carriage - 'I demand a horse as well.'  
  
The leader of the group laughed suddenly. Taking off his hat, he bowed to Hermione. 'My lady,' he said walking forward. 'You are without a doubt, most unique. Harry Potter is lucky to have you. Would I be fair in saying, mademoiselle, that he could have whatever he could carry?'  
  
Harry pulled himself away from the three men that held him and stepped forward. 'I have your world on that?' he asked.  
  
The leader laughed again. 'A banished wizard's honour, sire. You have a gypsie's word.'  
  
Harry walked forward and quite easily picked up Hermione, and put her over her shoulder. 'I hope your son will love the cloak.' He said sincerely. He walked away slowly, his heavy boots thudding against the ground, the only sound amid silence.  
  
The leader called after him, 'Come back! We'll give you a horse, on the condition you'll come to our party!' The band of gypsies laughed heartily.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
'I want to be informed the minute she returns.' Said Elizabeth, as the sun slowly set.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Harry stared intently into Hermione's eyes. Each having enjoyed a meal and a dance, they retired by the fireplace.  
  
'You are reading my thoughts.' Said Hermione quietly.  
  
'Are they as complicated as mine?' asked Harry.  
  
'Truth or dare.' Asked Hermione.  
  
'Truth.' Said Harry.  
  
'Do you want to be Minister for Magic?' she asked. Both the cross-legged, sitting opposite each other, and she rested her hand on her chin.  
  
'No.' said Harry, placing his intense gaze on the roaring fire. 'I don't.'  
  
'But think of all the wonderful things you could do. For the rich, for the poor, for the banished,' she said, gesturing at the riotous crowd. 'For country and the world.'  
  
'Yes, but no one will see me for anything but my title. I will be always defined by my position, and that's not who I am.' Said Harry, throwing a stick into the flames.  
  
'You'd be surprised.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'Your not the only one defined by your title, so are the gypsies. They are judged by their status but that isn't who they are. And just because I read by the fireplace, I'm Cinder -' she stopped abruptly. 'You are born to privilege, Harry. I've only known you for a little while, but. . . you're a great person. I'm not saying that because you're Harry Potter, I'm - I think I - well . . .' Hermione trailed off, casting her eyes down. 'I'm sorry, sometimes my mouth just runs away with me.'  
  
Harry carefully placed a hand under her chin and tilted it upwards, luminous green eyes meeting melting golden ones. Leaning towards her, she closed her eyes. 'No, it is your mouth that has me hypnotized,' he whispered before their lips met.  
  
He kissed her softly and gently, pulling her closer, his hands tangling in the silky ringlets. Hermione ran her hands through his hair, not caring that she had no business pretending -  
  
A chorus of wolf-whistling interrupted them. Coming back to earth, Hermione and Harry separated, each with a smile on their face.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
THAT NIGHT:  
  
'Please, drop me here. I don't want to wake anyone.' Said Hermione quietly. Harry jumped off the horse they were riding and lifted Hermione down.  
  
'Thank you.' He said, running his cupped fingers down her cheek.  
  
Hermione smiled, and turned away, towards the manor.  
  
'Daniella . . . do you the ruins by the Forbidden Forest?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Would you meet me there tomorrow?' he asked.  
  
'I shall try.' Said Hermione, the first onslaught of guilt setting in.  
  
'Then I shall wait all day.' Said Harry, climbing back onto the horse.  
  
That night, when Hermione tumbled into bed, she cried. That was the happiest day of her life, yet she couldn't lie to Harry any longer. She had fallen in love with him when she was only a servant, and she couldn't deceive him any more. Tomorrow she had to tell him that she couldn't see him again.  
  
She had never been loved by anyone but her father, but she knew that this couldn't go on. Life was bleak before, but life without Harry seemed to be devastating. Though he had only been in her life for a small while, she knew that life without him would him the worst yet.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. . . 


	5. Chapter Five

A/N: Here we go! Freshly prepared latest chapter!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Morning broke, and Harry raced to his parents room, throwing open the curtains.  
  
'Off with his head!' shouted James in his sleep.  
  
'Wake up dear,' said Lily, shaking him. 'Our son has something to tell us.'  
  
'Mother, Father, I want to build a university with the biggest library in Europe where anyone can study regardless of their social status.' Said Harry, now swinging on the four poster bed.  
  
'All right,' said James after a shell-shocked silence. 'Who are you and what have you done with my son?'  
  
Harry grinned and gave his mother a smacking kiss on the cheek, before walking out. 'Oh, and by the way, I want to invite the gypsies to the Ball.' He said as he left.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Something very hard poked Hermione in the side. She winced and opened her eyes, drowsily. Standing over her was Elizabeth, Marguerite and Jacqueline. Elizabeth held a broom in her hand, which was obviously what poked her.  
  
'Are you sick?' demanded Elizabeth.  
  
Hermione stretched and rubbed her eyes. 'No . . . yes . . .' she said, pulling the blanket over her head.  
  
Elizabeth pulled it down again. 'Where were you?' she said sharply.  
  
'I got lost.'  
  
'I don't believe you. I think you are hiding something from me, and I demand to know what it is!' shouted Elizabeth, her temper increasing rapidly.  
  
Hermione yawned. 'Why don't you just tell me so I can go back to sleep?'  
  
Jacqueline stifled a laugh which she hastily turned into a sneeze.  
  
'What about our breakfast?' cried Marguerite in outrage, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
'You have to hands. Make it yourself.' Snapped Hermione. Jacqueline stifled another laugh which brought Elizabeth's attention onto her.  
  
'Why you lazy leech!' shrieked Marguerite.  
  
'Jacqueline, go boil some water.' Said Elizabeth immovably. 'I'll deal with you later.'  
  
Jacqueline opened her mouth in shock. 'I knew it, I just knew it!' she muttered, before leaving.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Hermione was not much disturbed the rest of the morning, and when she finally was dressed and ready, Molly ran into her room. 'Hermione, you'd better come see this.' She said, panting. 'Come.'  
  
Hermione followed her into the attic, where Marguerite was holding her mother's dress in front of her, admiring herself in the mirror. Elizabeth was adjusting it, and Jacqueline was crossing her arms behind them sulkily.  
  
'Oh look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.' Said Elizabeth airily.  
  
'What - what are you doing?' asked Hermione slowly.  
  
'Do you honestly think after your performance this morning that you would be allowed to go anywhere?' said Elizabeth smoothly.  
  
'It's disgusting, the way you hunt royalty down like it's some sport. Do you think these schemes, these plots will win you a crown?' demanded Hermione hotly.  
  
'You're just jealous.' Sniffed Marguerite.  
  
'Those are my mothers!' said Hermione stiffly, angry bubbling up inside of her, though she contained herself as best she could, picking up both of her mother's shoes.  
  
'Yes.' Said Marguerite. 'And she's dead.'  
  
Suddenly all the anger Hermione had been bottling up all these years went loose, she walked up to Marguerite, and with a shaking hand, slapped her right across the face.  
  
Marguerite, squealing like a pig, dropped the dress and hitched up hers, running out of the room. Hermione chased after her, Elizabeth tottering behind them while Jacqueline watched in dismay.  
  
'I'm going to tear your hair out!' Hermione screamed, chasing her in a room. Marguerite jumped onto the bed, and Hermione followed in hot pursuit. Wasting no time, she pushed her off the bed. Down Marguerite fell, head over heels, before finally running towards the fireplace. 'Mother!' she screamed. 'Mother do something!'  
  
The fireplace where Hermione had been reading Utopia, two nights ago.  
  
Panting, Marguerite caught sight of the tattered book, and picked it up, holding it towards the flames. 'Get away from me so help my God.' She said.  
  
Hermione backed away slowly, clutching the shoes that she held. 'No, Marguerite, don't! Put it down!'  
  
'Give me the shoes.' Said Marguerite, holding the book threateningly above the flickering flames.  
  
'Please,' said Hermione desperately. 'Put it down!'  
  
'Think carefully, Hermione.' Said Elizabeth coolly. 'Your father's book or your mother's shoes, though neither will save you from a sound lashing.'  
  
Hermione glanced from the book to the shoes. Utopia, the last book her father had brought back, from the last night she saw him. It was more than a book to her. It was part of her soul. Shaking, she handed the shoes to Elizabeth's outstretched hands.  
  
Marguerite smiled and threw the book into the flames, spitefully.  
  
'No!' cried Hermione, tears filling her eyes, she knelt in front of the fireplace. Elizabeth caught hold of her pulling her away as she struggled. Jacqueline shook her head sadly, and Marguerite flounced away. 'No.' she whispered.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
An hour later, Hermione was lying on her bed, her dress completely unbuttoned, with deep gashes across the smooth tan skin of her back. She winced as Jacqueline carefully applied a wet cloth to it, cleaning the wounds. She had be forbidden to help her using magic and all the potions were locked along with her wand by Elizabeth to prevent temptation.  
  
'I don't know what's come over me.' Said Hermione quietly, flinched at the pain.  
  
'First with breakfast and that horrid display downstairs.' Said Jacqueline in her gentle, soothing voice. 'Although, I don't think I'll ever forget the day Marguerite's feet went over her head like that. And she was wrong to talk of your mother in that way.  
  
'Thank you.' Said Hermione, her voice sounding a little choked-up, a bit overwhelmed by Jacqueline's kindness.  
  
'Marguerite's always been the beautiful one. When I was little I wished that I could be like her.' said Jacqueline.  
  
'Thank heaven you're not, Jacqueline.' Said Hermione sincerely. 'But I don't think Marguerite is beautiful. I think she is ugly. And weak, and poor despite her riches. Her heart made of coal. Yours is made of gold.'  
  
Jacqueline continued to tend to Hermione's wounds and they remained in silence. The tentative friendship that never had the chance to develop was cemented.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
A/N: There we go! Short chappie, I know, but I wanted end it there! Next chapter may be up eventually! 


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